Mister Speaker,The Metrosexual President of the United States!

November 12, 2012

Last night I watched a woman sit on a bench next to my husband. I was across the room stuck talking to some people about the event that was about to happen, but I clearly heard her ask if the seat next to him was taken. He said no–it was a long bench after all, and he was the only one sitting on it. So she sat down and crossed her legs in his direction.

On the way home I teased him about it, saying that I saw her trying to chat him up. He told me that she asked him if he was participating in the event and he said, “No, but my wife is.” Then she got up and moved away. (Can you hear the ‘ting!’ of a halo popping out over his head? He really is a perfect husband.)

To give her a tiny bit of credit, she was on his right side and didn’t necessarily see the ring right off the bat. Though how much does a ring matter? I once had a guy-friend who (looking back on it) was crushing on me pretty badly but playing it cool. I actually thought I could get him to become friends with DH as well as me and we’d all live happily ever after in friend land. Anyway, after I got married I confided to him that I was dismayed to find men didn’t stop hitting on me. Didn’t they see the ring? He said most men saw a ring as presenting an extra challenge–it made them want me even more. Then he gave me a look. He said they saw the ring all right, they just didn’t care. Gulp.

At any rate, I think my DH is gaining ground with ladies because he’s fit, he dresses well, and he’s very feminist. Let’s face it, he’s a metrosexual.

It seems metrosexuals are gaining ground these days. We’ve come a long way from the time of Queer Eye For The Straight Guy when metrosexuals were looked upon with suspicion. Metrosexual seemed to connoted a guy who might be, well maybe, perhaps…a little gay. Metrosexuals care about their appearance…but maybe they care a little too much? People weren’t sure.

This makes me think of an event in 2007 when I remember giving a guy-friend of mine a ride home. (A different guy-friend.) We were talking about a mutual acquaintance of ours, one commonly called an asshole. The guy-friend said he had some reservations about the mutual acquaintance, but really had a hard time just coming out and saying what the problem was. So I was more than a little surprised when guy-friend said of our mutual acquaintance “Do you think he’s a metrosexual?”

Personally, I’d never thought of Barack Obama as a metrosexual. I thought of him as hankering after that early sixties classic ideal, the Kennedy-eque years, the hip years of clean cut cool.

Then I saw this video from the BBC where someone speculates that Romney might have an edge in the election because we in America like our masculinity a certain way.

Apparently NOT. Maureen Dowd said in her NYTimes op-ed piece and here that we’re moving on from that kind of old school masculinity and into a new era. [She doesn’t seem to think much of Barack Obama’s leadership skills however, and kicks his skinny ass a bit, demanding he keep up with the woman, immigrants, and other parties that want more leftist love and they want it now.]

Meanwhile, some say the world of romance novels is a throwback world where masculinity means muscles – -not just toned lean fitness– but hulking big and bulky mass. Romance novels often portray women wanting cave-men in cowboy boots, dirty, sexually aggressive, and possessive. Is there room for a guy with taste, who’s clean, fit, and expects a woman to be his equal in all things? Hmmmmmmm.

I obviously speak from a biased point of view. On one hand, my perfect guy doesn’t come with a lot of atrocious furniture that we need an entire man cave to hold. On the other hand, if we were mugged, would I be the one more likely to save us? Perhaps. I have been known to kick some ass in the past, and I don’t think my husband has every actually been in a fight.

Meanwhile, Michelle Obama looks like she could kick some ass as well. She seems every bit the equal of Obama–and probably has a much higher approval rating. Is this different kind of America one where we can see the Obama relationship as a sort of romantic ideal? Or are we always going to want muscle bound lunk heads that we need to set straight about respecting womankind? Are these guys becoming so rare in our actual world that we can only envision them has half-animal or as aliens or paranormal monsters in our romances?

We want to hear from you reader — what do you think? Meanwhile, know of any romances with metrosexual heroes that you’d recommend? Kristan Higgins Somebody To Love comes to mind. A metrosexual lawyer with mean carpentry skills and a fear of the ocean stars in this romance.

7 Comments

Having been judged based on my appearance and presentation for most of my adult life, I do not particularly care how a fellow dresses, grooms, etc,, provided he tends to basic hygiene. My concern is whether he’s an honorable person, and if a relationship is under contemplation, does he get me, does he let me see enough to know if I get him? The mani/pedi stuff does not matter.

Thanks so much for commenting, Grace! I guess the metro question makes me feel a little insecure because I hate shopping and want to be accepted for who I am without any fuss or muss. Y-E-T I make this implicit assumption that a metrosexual guy would want someone who keeps up appearances.

On the other hand, it’s good to have a motivation to stay in peak health. Meanwhile, I gotta admit, I love pretty, pretty things. I think if I wasn’t ‘keeping up’ that the penny pinching side of me would rule and my own life would be more drab as a result.

But your question raises another implicit assumption that I question: is there something about metrosexuals that makes them more in touch with women than other men? Or does the skill of matching a great shirt and tie have nothing to do with understanding how women think?

Looove it. Check out SAINT MAYBE, by Anne Tyler. The hero smells like vanilla – VANILLA for cryin’ out loud! I mean, really, if the guy comes with cookies, isn’t that better? What if he came with chocolate chip cookies? Oh dear, I feel a swoon coming on.

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